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Sabotage
= Sabotage = Posted by : Winteroak on Mar 23, 2018, 12:00am August 19th, The Sprawl, Late Evening Enoch raced through the dirty and smog filled streets of The Steamworks. The pounding and noise of colossal machinery echoed ominously, never ending, never stopping for breath. The heart of Dusk. Without The Steamworks the city would die. And so would Elesium. And the Delve? Without the Steamworks the Delve was only a gaping hole in the ground from which their ancestors had crawled from many generations ago. His face covered in a red dyed cloth kept most of the indescribable stench of human sweat and squalor mixed with lubricant at bay. It also concealed his identity. The events of last night had made the Red Crew speed up their plans. The spy at one of their gatherings, the Tremors that shook the city and the rumored death of Councilman David Corbet. All this transpired to ensure that the inner circle of the movement pushed into motion the first steps of their Manifesto. Whilst Ezekiel Tinker prepared and gathered a Charter that would be delivered to First Citizen Josiah Hazard and the Council of Dusk, Enoch and some of his brothers and sisters would show everyone who truly held power in this city. Ezekiel was calling it the People's Charter. A list of demands and reforms sorely needed by the workers of this city. And if demands were not met, Revolution would swallow the streets of Dusk. He passed a poor and grimy Workhouse on his way to his destination. In Dusk workhouses where becoming more and more common, they were known as Spikes, places where those unable to support themselves were offered accommodation in exchange for food and employment. Very few that entered a Workhouse ever managed to leave one. People actually became indentured to the factories and owners that ran them. The city authorities hoped to run workhouses at a profit by utilizing the free labour of their inmates, who generally lacked the skills or motivation to compete in the open market. Most were employed on tasks such as breaking stones, crushing bones to produce fertiliser, or in the dark mills, of men like David Corbet. Life in a workhouse was harsh, intended to deter the able-bodied poor and to ensure that only the truly destitute would apply. But things in Dusk were getting worse. Resources from Elesium were no longer enough to sustain an ever growing population and The City in the Sky kept demanding more and more Flagesium in return. In fact workhouses were increasingly becoming refuges for the elderly, infirm and sick rather than the able-bodied poor. Those lost souls that were no longer able to care for themselves. Enoch shivered to think what the Council would order if one day they realized these workhouses were simply becoming more Almshouses. The polluted metropolitan was as hypocritical and it was enlightened. Where well mannered people lived their daily existence trying to ignore the unsanatary underworld of their dark city. The pretentious aristocracy could only get hurt one way. And that was to shake the status quo. A city full to the brim with the dangerous lower classes that would bring into the open their grisly secrets and crumbling pomp. Enoch passed a couple of vagrants and streetwalkers but paid them no attention. No coin he could spare would help them more than one night. There should me more to life than simply scrapping a living. And the Red Crew would bring about some real change. Whatever it took. Tomorrow and group of 150 chosen men and women would picket the Silken Mill of the late David Corbet. Tomorrow they would enforce a strike. No one would work tomorrow and the loss of money and production would make others take note. Of course the militia would be sent to crack some heads and that is why he was here tonight. To ensure the authorities had a bigger problem on their hands tomorrow morning. He could navigate The Steamworks with his eyes closed. He could move like a ghost through his streets and factories, avoiding most patrols and denizens at this time of night if he so wished. When he ran from home many seasons ago he had found his true brothers and sisters in these streets. People he wanted to help desperately. Tonight was the beginning of the help he would see come to them... ~~~~ By the team the huge explosion lit up the night sky and rocked the docks, Enoch Solomon was already somewhere beneath the shadow of The Roost making his escape. He pocketed his Vesta case and took a swing of his silver flask. Gunpowder and Flagslag made for an volatile and extremely flammable mixture. The damage to the rails would be significant near the Green Docks. Enough to stop some shipments of raw Flagesium coming into the city, disrupt production and distract the authorities from the mill's strike. At least for a few days... He disappeared into the night...